Boston Red Sox: Our Father, Who Art in Fenway

It’s probably a good thing I wasn’t around in 1986 too, as Sox fans were subject to what might have been just as bad as a death in the family.  After coming back from a 3-1 deficit in the American League Championship series, the Red Sox were 1 out away from winning the World Series against the New York Mets.  A single, a wild pitch, a rolling ground ball to first that magically squeezed through Bill Buckner’s legs, and a Game 7 later, Red Sox fans were at a funeral, not a parade. 

Hearing stories of hosts on sports radio having to talk people out of committing suicide, I further began to realize what the Red Sox truly meant. 

Once I came along, the Sox luck didn’t get much better, however many of my earliest childhood memories are built around the Red Sox and Fenway Park, with pictures of me just days old in a Red Sox hat.  I guess I sort of had no choice in life.  I suppose it's only normal that I was repeating the Red Sox starting 9 before I could walk.  I was thrown right into the living soap opera, like a child being forced to learn how to swim, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

While I’ve had the privilege (Yeah, I'll still call it a privilege for now) of meeting Roger Clemens, walking on Fenway’s field, and being to hundreds of games, my childhood did not conjure up very many exciting memories. 

The Sox were mediocre, winning a lone division title for the decade in 1995, which included MVP Mo Vaughn, juiced up slugger Jose Canseco, “The Gator” Mike Greenwell and of course, “The Rocket” (and perhaps the juicer/liar) Roger Clemens.  The All Star game graced Fenway’s field in 1999, which was actually a great experience to watch, but I still hadn’t been through the testy times as a fan. 

I still needed my initiation.   

The Sox made it to the ALCS in 1999, for the first time since 1986, against whom else, the Yankees.  They had just beaten the Cleveland Indians in Cleveland in the final game of the series, with Pedro Martinez pitching 6 perfect innings in relief.  It was too good to be true; I knew just 11 years into my life wasn’t long enough.  People had waited centuries. 

Well, I was right. 

As quickly as it came, it evaporated in a quick and silent 4-1 series win thanks to the Yankees.  The sting was there, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.  I asked my dad why he wasn’t as shook up about it as I was, and all he had to say was “they do it all the time.” Then, 2003 finally gave me what I was waiting for. 

I was a sophomore in high school, and at that age, you’re expecting the worst a lot of the time.  But they did it again.  They roped me in.  First, down 2-0 in a 5 game series in the first round, they would come back and win in game 5.  Then, down 3-1 in another ALCS with the Yankees, they battled back, and I would witness my first ever game 7. 

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